


Chasing Dreams

by mmouse15



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-13
Updated: 2009-10-13
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/pseuds/mmouse15
Summary: Jazz is injured in a fight against the Decepticons, and the entire force of Autobots bands together to save him. However, one special mech does more.





	Chasing Dreams

Title: Chasing Dreams  
Rating: PG  
Universe: G1  
Pairing/Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Hoist, mentions of others  
Author's notes: I was driving home last night, and _Chasing Cars_ by Snow Patrol came on. For once, I was alone in the car and I could properly listen to the lyrics. I was sobbing by the time I got home, and the idea for this story was born. I've worked ferociously on it, and I hope you enjoy it.  
It is un-beta'd, so if I messed something up, please let me know.

 

The last thing Jazz remembered was the huge fist coming toward him. Bruticus was more brutal than usual, and Defensor was slow in coming to the rescue. Jazz flew backwards and smashed into a cliff, causing an avalanche of rocks and dirt to cover him. He knew no more.

_"Jazz. Recharge time is over. C'mon, show me your pretty optics."_

_Jazz forced his optics to boot up, blearily looking up at the mech that was upside down over him. As soon as his optics lit up, the mech smiled down at him and bent, kissing him and stroking his cheek plates._

_"That's right. I'm glad you're here. I've been missing you."_

_Jazz knew he should know who this mech was, but in his dream-like state, he didn't care. The affection and warmth coming from the mech was enough to make him happy. His optics turned off and he slid toward the pull on his body and spark._

_"No! Jazz, stay with me. You can't leave right now." The voice was urgent, precise and emphatic._

_"M'tired. Need to recharge." Jazz told him._

_"No, you have to stay here."_

_The mech was so sure of this. Why? He needed recharge. He felt terrible, as if he'd gotten very overcharged and all his circuits were in a whirl, unable to settle and function properly. Jazz was finally able to stutter, "W..why?"_

_"Because if you leave now, you'll never find me."_

_Oh. Well. That changed things. Jazz wanted to know who this was, so he forced his optics on and grasped the hand on his shoulder. The mech over him smiled down on him, and Jazz knew this was the right decision…_

"Get that rock off there! No, not that one, the other one! Yeah, that one." Ironhide was holding a huge boulder off Jazz while Trailbreaker moved more rocks and boulders from around that one. Ratchet was on his knees under Ironhide, already working on Jazz. Brawn was clearing away the smaller rocks behind Trailbreaker, while Hoist was assisting Ratchet by passing him necessary tubes and lines to stop Jazz's systems from shutting down.

"I need energy to keep his spark going, it's starting to sputter. " Ratchet was muttering.

"Use mine." Prowl's quiet voice broke in.

Ratchet snarled at him, "I can't use you! You're the tactician, needed to win this battle."

"Smokescreen is in a better position and is just as capable as I am. I can not move many of these rocks, but I can offer my spark energy to stabilize Jazz."

"Fine. I don't have time to argue with you." Ratchet reached up and yanked Prowl down, efficiently clipping leads to Jazz's spark casing and then attaching them to Prowl, who had moved his chest plates aside as Ratchet was working on Jazz.

The thrum of energy was a good sign, and everyone fell back to work quickly, doing their best to dig Jazz out of the jumble of rocks and dirt covering him.

_"It hurts." Jazz couldn't help the whimper._

_"I know. You're very brave, hanging on like this, " The mech stroked his face, and Jazz leaned against the caress, using the physical touch to ground himself, keep himself here and now._

_Jazz tried to distract himself from the pain, focusing on the mech holding him so gently._

_"Why don't I know you?"_

_"You haven't been paying attention to me, you've been distracted by many other things."_

_"But…if you're important, why haven't I been paying attention to you?" Jazz couldn't puzzle this out._

_"Everything else is important, too. The war, the morale of the command and the soldiers, the sabotage of Megatron's various plans and weapons…we're fighting a war, Jazz, and you've been putting your energy into doing your best in those arenas." The voice was calm, soothing. Jazz clung to it, using it as his focal point in this dream of a world._

"Ratchet." Hoist pointed, drawing Ratchet's attention.

"Blast! OK, Hound, can you winch that boulder back a little more? Trailbreaker, if you don't mind, I want a force field over Jazz, just in case something goes wrong. We've got to get him out of here, and I can't wait to make it pretty." Ratchet injected an emergency ration of liquid energon directly into Jazz's main line via a port above his hip. The ration would burn faster than normal, but would give the energy Jazz needed to stay on-line. He was bleeding out from multiple wounds, some inaccessible in the current situation, and Ratchet needed him out from under the rocks and in a flat area sooner rather than later.

A flurry of studied motion later, Jazz was free from his earthly prison and being carried down to the valley floor while Ratchet and Hoist worked on him. Prowl paced with them, the leads still attached to his chest and to Jazz, keeping the damaged spark pulsing strongly.

_"Ah!" Jazz wanted to curl up, go into recharge, get away from the pain._

_"Shhh. I know it hurts. You're doing very well, keep hanging on. We're getting there, Jazz." Jazz's optics weren't working – he'd sent signals for them to turn on, but they weren't responding. He flailed around, trying to find a point in this grey world to cling to and focus upon. A hand grasped his and he wrapped his fingers around the physical presence and held on tightly._

_"I want…don't leave me?" The fear of being alone, of dying without someone, rang through Jazz's words._

_"I won't leave you. I'm right here. And you're not going to die."_

_"Heh. As if you could stop death." Jazz was getting weaker, his grip on this life slipping slowly away._

_"I would fight for you against the Unmaker himself," came the steady promise, and Jazz clung to the promise and to the mech as things slipped away from him._

"There. He's stable enough to be transported." Ratchet sat back on his heels. Hoist, deep in monitoring Jazz's vital signs, nodded his agreement.

Jazz, Ratchet, Hoist, and Prowl were loaded into Optimus' trailer. The fight was long over, the attack on Jazz the last push Megatron was able to muster against the Autobots. After Jazz was hit, the rest of the faction swung into action and began beating every Decepticon they faced until Megatron called the retreat and everyone was able to turn their attention to the only wounded person. There were minor dings and dents, but everyone was focused on getting Jazz back to the Ark where Ratchet and his team could repair the saboteur. A quiet line of cars, trucks, and other vehicles followed behind Optimus, everyone worried about Jazz.

Once at the Ark, Jazz was first priority. He was moved to the medbay, Prowl trailing along behind until relieved of the duty by Ratchet hooking Jazz up to a spark-monitor. Prowl then left to make his reports and debrief Smokescreen, while Ratchet worked on Jazz's mangled form. The mech moved more than was usual, but Ratchet didn't want to sedate him more or force him deeper into stasis, worried about the weakness of Jazz's spark.

_"Where are you?" Jazz called for his mech, but he was gone, and Jazz's calls went unanswered. Grief thrummed through Jazz, the loss more than he could bear in his current condition._

It was touch and go, but Ratchet finally put his tools down with a groan and straightened his back, working out the kinks from being bent over Jazz's body for so long. Hoist echoed him, having worked on the structural damage while Ratchet worked on the internal damage. Jazz was stable and recharging by himself, rather than being forced into a stasis. He muttered, his fingers flexing, and Ratchet checked the monitors. Sure enough, his spark energy was fluctuating.

"He's doing it again," Ratchet said, drawing Hoist's attention to the spark signature.

"I've seen that before, but not for a long time," Hoist told him, wiping his hands clean and regarding the wavering signature. "It was at the start of the war. That's the sign of a mech that's lost a bondmate."

"Jazz isn't bonded, is he?" Ratchet accessed his files, double-checking his knowledge. Hoist was doing the same.

"Nope, he's not. For one, his Spark seal hasn't been broken. Technically, it's possible to have intimate relations without breaking that seal, but it's impossible to become bondmates without that seal shredding itself."

"Right. So if Jazz doesn't have a bondmate, what are we seeing?" Ratchet was deep in thought. Once again, though, Hoist had the answer.

"We have resonance."

"What is resonance?" Ratchet looked interested.

"It's…the best bondmates had resonance between their sparks. They operated on the same frequencies, and the action of one bondmate provoked a sympathetic response in the other mate, or mates, even if they were separated by long distances."

"But if Jazz doesn't have a bondmate, how can he have resonance?" Ratchet was stroking his lip plate thoughtfully, and went on. "His probable bondmate is nearby, someone he is around quite a bit, and through their association, they've built up the sympathetic responses, even if they've never bonded."

"Or had intimate relations." Hoist added.

"Who could it be?"

"I don't know. But if that's what we're seeing, Jazz's spark is searching for its match, and stressing his systems. What are we going to do?"

"Frag if I know. I'm so tired, I don't know what to think." Ratchet rubbed his throat tiredly, hoping to massage some of the tension from his cables. "Let's call Perceptor and Wheeljack, let them figure out a rotation of mechs to sit with Jazz while we recharge, and re-think this when our processor aren't clouded with fatigue."

"Good plan." Hoist agreed, and put in a call to Perceptor.

_"I can't find you. I'm lost. Where are you?" Jazz's calls were becoming weaker, his ability to hold on was slipping, and letting go was starting to seem like a good option._

"So, Prowl, thank you for covering for Bumblebee. I don't know why Spike couldn't delay his task instead of insisting that Bumblebee had to go with him right now, but I'm very glad you could step in. Um, Jazz just needs to have you sit near him. He gets very agitated when he's left alone, and Ratchet was extremely worried about the stress his systems are under, given the massive job his self-repair systems have to tackle." Perceptor fussed about, setting a small table near the chair by Jazz's berth so Prowl would have a place to keep the extra data pads he'd brought with him. Prowl settled himself and picked up the first pad, thumbing it on and absorbing himself in the information displayed.

_"I'm right here." The voice was exactly what Jazz needed, and he responded, reaching out. Hands ghosted over his and fingers tangled. "Shh. You're hurting yourself. You need to calm down."_

Jazz awoke with a jerk, fluid pouring from his optics as a sob broke from his vocalizer. Startled, Prowl dropped the datapad and stood, grabbing the flailing hand and dropping his voice to a soothing pitch.

"Jazz, what is it? What's wrong?"

Jazz sobbed, pain and despair flowing into his voice, "I can't find him, Prowl."

"Who? Who can't you find, Jazz?"

Prowl felt his spark stutter at the despair and loss in Jazz's optics. "I don't know who he is, Prowl, but he saved me, and I miss him, and I want him." Static trilled through Jazz's voice, his distress setting off alarms.

Perceptor came running, pushing Prowl aside and shoving Jazz onto the berth, "Now, Jazz! You're overtaxing your systems, and I must insist that you stop right now." He flipped a switch and the shrill sound cut out, but he found his hands full with a struggling Jazz.

Prowl moved to the head of the berth and put his hands on Jazz's shoulders, leaning over and saying, "It's alright, Jazz, we've got you. It will be fine."

Jazz froze, his optics snapping to Prowl's. Perceptor continued his fussing, but Jazz and Prowl were locked. Dazed, Jazz slowly reached up and twined his fingers around Prowl's. Prowl was surprised to find himself responding, returning the pressure and sliding his hand down Jazz's until they were palm to palm.

"…and now you just stay right there, Jazz, while I go and get Ratchet. This is quite silly of you, and you're going to do more damage…" Perceptor's voice trailed off as he went into Ratchet's office to wake the medic.

Prowl leaned over until his forehead rested against Jazz's, and asked, "What are your dreams?"

"I dream…I dream that there's this mech, and he knows me like no one else has ever done, and I'm safe with him. I'm alive because he asked me to stay, wouldn't let me go."

Prowl absorbed this, then asked softly, "Do you want to know what I dream?"

"Yes, I do."

"I dream there's this mech, and he makes me laugh, and he holds me because I'm the most important thing in his world, and I would give anything to him."

Ratchet came stalking out of his office, sucking down a container of energon as Perceptor updated him. The medic stopped in his tracks at the sight that greeted his optics, however. Prowl was bent over Jazz, his forehead against the saboteur's, while their hands were clasped. Jazz's spark showed a strong, steady beat on the monitor, and Ratchet turned to Perceptor for an explanation.

"I swear, Ratchet, it was fluctuating all over the place! Jazz was flailing about and his systems were overtaxed, and I have no idea what just happened."

Ratchet turned and pushed him back, "A miracle, Perceptor. That's what happened. C'mon. You look like you need some energon, too."

Behind them, two souls that had been missing their other half basked in the warmth of finding the lost part of themselves.

The End.


End file.
